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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29132931">on solid ground.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryade/pseuds/cherryade'>cherryade</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Anxiety, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode Related, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 06:49:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>705</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29132931</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryade/pseuds/cherryade</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>TK stands shoulder to shoulder with some of Austin’s finest and he thinks <i>oh god, please don’t let this be how it ends</i></p>
<p>(TK falls. Carlos catches.)</p>
<p>2x01: the tank scene</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Carlos Reyes/TK Strand</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>177</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>on solid ground.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I watched the scene and thought: there's no way that didn't affect TK on some level</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">TK stands shoulder to shoulder with some of Austin’s finest and he thinks <em>oh god, please don’t let this be how it ends</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His gaze is aimed resolutely forward, arms crossed as he watches the tank move inexorably towards them. He can see Carlos in his peripheral vision, standing with his hands clasped before him. His dad’s voice is white noise. The lines of the tanks are crisp and sharp and he can see every nut and bolt. The tire treads rumble and groan. His feet are rooted to the ground and he breathes.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The radio crackles.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Captain Strand?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Still standing.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He feels the sigh that sweeps through the crowd. His dad takes a cautious step back as Carlos and his team surges forward. A tremor runs through TK and he grips his hands together. Owen turns and meets his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">
    <em>relief, fear, regret</em>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A shivery feeling worms its way up his spine and he tamps it down. Plastering a grin onto his face, he slaps his dad on the arm.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Good job, Captain.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Owen smiles and says nothing about the smile that does not reach his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">—</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He can hear Carlos moving around in the bathroom as he sits, propped up by pillows. He thinks he was looking at Instagram, but the screen had darkened awhile ago and he’s left staring listlessly at his own reflection. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s so lost in his thoughts that he doesn’t realise that Carlos had left the bathroom until the bed dips.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey tiger,” Carlos murmurs as he sits cross-legged in front of TK. He runs a hand down TK’s forearm, brows creased in concern. “You wanna talk about it?</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">TK smiles, a tight stretch of his lips. A pressure is building behind his eyeballs and the familiar feeling of <em>too much</em> is bubbling up in his stomach.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m fine,” he says. He hears how hollow his own voice is and hates it.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Carlos frowns. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t want to push, but something is clearly bothering you,” he says. He reaches out to cup TK’s face with a hand. “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it, but tell me what you need. I want to help.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He watches through blurring eyes as Carlos’ eyes widen. The hand cupping his face reaches up to wipe the tears off his face. He’s so tired <em>so full</em> and he feels like his heart is leaking.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I-,” he starts and closes his eyes. He drops his phone on the bed and allows himself to fall. He grunts as his forehead makes contact with Carlos’ chest. Strong arms snake around him as he is reeled into his boyfriend’s warmth.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, I’m right here,” Carlos says, running a hand down his back. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">TK sniffles. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That call today,” he grates out. His throat feels like a closed pipe, but now that he’s started, he can’t seem to stop. “The one with the tank. I thought we were all gonna die.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Carlos’ chest hitches beneath his tear-stained face and his arms tighten around him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We would have jumped out of the way if he didn’t stop,” Carlos says. The rumbling of his chest is soothing and TK soaks it in.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, I know. But in that moment, I was sure we weren’t gonna make it. And we almost didn’t.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“But we did, TK,” Carlos says gently.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>dad swaying, barrel the diameter of his head bouncing gently off</em> <em>his face</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p3"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“The barrel bumped dad in the face,” TK says. He’s trembling, and he thinks he’ll cry himself dry by the time the night is out. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Carlos pulls back and he can see the sound TK makes in his throat reflected in Carlos’ eyes. He leans forward and places a tender kiss on his lips. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“He’s alive,” he says. “We’re alive. I’m sorry I can’t make this horrible situation go away, but I can be here for you?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">TK surges forward, knocking Carlos back onto the bed with a soft thump. He wraps his arms around his boyfriend’s midsection and buries his face in his sturdy chest. The heartbeat under his cheek is steady and reassuring.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Cuddles?” he mumbles, voice hitching. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A hand runs gently through his hair and rests on the nape of his neck.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">
    <em>grounding, safe</em>
  </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Don't own the sandbox, just really enjoy playing in it</p></blockquote></div></div>
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